


Fun Size

by Gemini_00



Series: Batfamily Shorts [46]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Cuddles, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Brother Tim Drake, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-23 08:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18545947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_00/pseuds/Gemini_00
Summary: Damian Wayne is little





	1. Fun Size Damian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaylaK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaylaK/gifts).



Personally, Tim blames Dick… This was Dick’s fault, Tim didn’t force the kid to come on the mission. No, Dick had weaseled his way into Tim’s head by forcing Tim to bring Damian along on a YJ mission in order to ‘bond’.

 

Well we are bonding now Dick, Tim thought sourly as he wrestled with a four year old Damian Wayne to just put on the freaking shirt. A small Red Robin shirt that Stephanie left here and one of the few things that will modestly cover the child. Because there were no normal ten year old, Damian clothes. No, the pretentious little jerk only brought Robin gear.

 

“There we go,” Tim sighed as he finally sat down. It hung off of Damian’s shoulders fell right past his knees making him look even smaller than before but atleast he was dressed now. Yet, little Damian did not look grateful, he looked exactly how he usually looked- annoyed. So apparently not all of Damian was gone, the brat was still pretty competent and suspicious and mouthy- but there was one thing- he clinged. Alot. 

 

He clinged when it first went down and he was surrounded by Tim and the metas that made the team. He was clingy when they questioned the villian on what happened- temporary age regression that hadn’t fully finished or else Damian wouldn’t even know them. But he did. He knew enough. He knew that Tim was the family member and that meant when he got scared of metas then he would cling to Red Robin’s cape or Tim’s leg.

 

_ “Sometimes when I think back to it, I can remember some little kid clinging onto T’s skirt,” Jason told Tim once when Damian was on bed rest, “I should’ve done something.” _

 

The big loud bang that came from below the room was clearly caused by some metas. Metas happened to be something that Damian was quite suspicious of if his four year old defense stance was anything to go by. Ten year old Damian was alot better at masking his emotions than the little guy in front of Tim. It pulled at something in the teenager and Tim wondered if this was that big brother instinct that Dick often dubbed it.

 

“Knock it off,” Tim told him, “There’s nothing to be scared of. I promise.”

 

“Not scared,” Damian muttered before stopping his defense stance only to stand up straight like a solidor.

 

“Come on,” Tim stood up, offering a hand, “I’ll make them clear out the room and we can video call with the big guy. I didn’t get to tell him much more than ‘Robin got tiny’.”

 

Damian gave a sour face but still took my hand, “Father will not be pleased with my current state.”

 

“You won’t be in trouble,” Drake sighed. Infact, Bruce might come down and sweep Damian up and off to Gotham… If Dick doesn’t beat him to it. Doesn’t matter, the baddie already told the team all they needed to know… It was going to wear off eventually and not last very long. Trying to force it would most likely do alot of damage.

 

“And if I am?” Damian’s child voice caught Tim off guard. Usually Damian would go on about how ‘Drake would be the one to take the brunt of Father’s anger.’

 

“I’ll make sure you’re not,” Tim swore. And he would. Sure Damian is reckless but he is ten surrounded by teenagers with superpowers. He just wanted to prove himself capable which he usually was… Tim guesses that they’ve all made mistakes. Anyways, clearly Damian is not himself right now and Tim won’t let Bruce yell at some little kid. Clearly Damian begrudgingly  believes him if the way he grabs Tim’s hand is any consolation.

 

There was a louder sound that resulted from another one of Cassie and (his) Kon’s arm wrestling when the two Bats approached the living room where a large TV sat that connected to the internet. Damian hid behind Tim’s legs in seconds when they all stopped to look. Tiny hands twist in Tim’s sweatpants. Tim isn’t sure if the kid is scared or embarrassed or just clinging.

 

“We gotta contact the big guy,” Tim told the group, “Full report and all that.”

 

“The squirt okay?” Bart Allen frowned trying to peak around, only to be pulled back by the blue beetle.

 

“He’s fine,” Tim told them, “But this is sort of a family matter so can you all-”

 

Cassie gave him a hurt look that he did his best to ignore. He never meant to hurt her when Stephanie came along, but thing happened just the same and he can’t take it back no matter how much he wishes. He hurt both of them so much. But he can’t focus on that now as little hands push at the back of his legs to push him forward.

 

Tim pulled up a chair to the side keyboard, connecting it to the cams in the bat cave. Damian was hiding beside the couch, out of view of the camera. Tim gave him a look, “You don’t want to see your dad?”

 

Damian shook his head.

 

“Are you scared?” Tim asked gently. 

 

“Tt.” But that wasn’t quite convincing. Still Tim learned from Dick that Damian was like a cat. You didn’t just go for a cat, the cat came to you. So when Bruce’s face popped up and asked for Damian, Tim told him that Damian was feeling like talking but he had the full report ready for him.

 

“But we don’t need to fix him?” Bruce asked.

 

Tim caught Damian looks from the side. He read more into that then maybe he should have. Or did he? Bruce always had this thing about ‘fixing’ broken things. It could be insensitive and hurtful and Damian always said he was quite bright as a child. Though Talia and Ra’s certainly didn’t mind play experiments on children. Would this be Damian if he was raised normal and with Bruce?

 

“Can I ask to see him?” Bruce asked. It was a quiet question, a plea. Most would just hear a man asking a simple question with vague interest. When Tim went to check on the boy again, he must’ve went back to hiding considering Tim didn’t see him. But clearly he underestimated the absolute power of being a ninja that little Damian had when knobby little knees and elbows climb up the chair on Tim’s lap.

 

“Ow, watch it boney,” Tim sighed but ultimately ended up with a tiny baby assassin that had attempted to kill him multiple times in his lap.

 

“You requested me, father,” the child in question stared up at the large screen. The way Bruce’s eyes lit up at the sight of baby Damian clenched at Tim’s heart a little bit. Bruce never got to experience any of them this small. If it wasn’t morally wrong then Tim might’ve asked for their baddie to find a way to make this stick.

 

“Yes son,” Bruce nodded, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

“I’m ade-ade-” It seemed that little Damian didn’t quite have the extensive vocabulary that their normal Damian did. It was kinda cute.

 

“He’s fine,” Tim sighed, shifting Damian on his lap to be more comfortable while rest his head right on top of the child's, “I’m thinking that we return to Gotham sooner than expected. The team can finish the rest of the mission without me.”

 

“You should take the jet,” Bruce nodded, “It would be wiser than taking the zeta tube.”

 

“Thanks for the suggestion,” Tim sighed as if he hadn’t already thought that through. Like he’d want the zeta tube to scrabble up little Damian’s molecules. Still he had to shift Damian’s knobby knees again as the child moved about and took Tim’s phone from his hand in order to play with it or something.

 

“Are you sure he is still…” Bruce trailed off.

 

“Memory is intact and all that,” Tim sighed as he just decided to let the kid play with his phone. For as easily as he opened it up, there was still some child like discovery as he tried to figure out how the applications on the device worked, “He’s just more… like what a kid should be like… But still all Damian.”

 

“What are you im-imp- What does that mean, Drake?” Damian finally asked, over not being able to speak the words he wishes. Yet he doesn’t lunge for Tim’s throat either but maintains in the lap with boney knees.

 

“Nothing gremlin,” Tim finds no malice in his words. He should pick up some toddler bat pharnellia for the kid. Dick would about faint at the sight of baby Damian in a Nightwing onesie… not to mention it’d be amazing black male for when he gets big again.

 

“The winds are not harsh today so I wouldn’t expect any turbulence. I’d estimate you would be here in nearly three hours and twenty three minutes if you leave the base in the next ten minutes,” Bruce said, “Should I have Alfred prepare anything?”

 

“Tea would be excellent,” Damian said, clearly not understanding the question.

 

“Some real clothing would be nice,” Tim said trying to take his phone back from the grabby hands. Currently Bart was blowing him up for updates on the batfamily drama. Pf, as if Tim would give that away, “He’s like small.”

 

“He seems to be very articulate for his age and size,” Bruce voiced.

 

“Well, he’s your kid,” Tim supplied.

 

“Your both my kids,” the Bat sighed in exasperation as if Tim was trying to test his patience in the oh so subtle ways that only his third son could do. Tim rolled his eyes but eventually got the phone back from Damian.

 

“Well see you in a bit,” Tim said before logging off. Tim didn’t even think twice about balancing the little gremlin on one hip while the child kept reaching for the phone.

 

“I want it,” Damian whined.

  
  


Tim bid goodbye to the rest of his team before approaching one of the jets that they used for more low key mission assignments. Unfortunately the one thing Tim did not think through was a seat for one tiny child. He was a tech whiz and super hero… he really didn’t deal with kids other than saving them. Dick would know what to do. Steph would know what to do. Even Jason would be better at this than him. But Damian doesn’t have them right now, he has Drake.

 

“So where you want to sit pipsqueak?” Tim asked, looking down at the child who clutched at the teen’s hand. One boney little finger pointed at the cockpit with the pilots seat… and their is a co-pilot's seat. Tim is pretty sure that’s not meant for children but Damian Wayne had never been a normal child.

 

“I wanted that seat,” Damian pouted… This was a pout, not a scowl as Tim buckled in his younger brother to the seat next to the pilot. The cockpit was not big but it must seem huge to the little boy that looked around.

 

“I know but this is better,” Tim told him, making sure the little guy could see out the window with a throw pillow or two from the outer seats along with some at his sides to keep him still.

 

“How?” Green eyes stare at him with wonder instead of pretentious belittling. Maybe the eyes were always meant to be perceived that way. 

 

“Because,” Tim explained while setting headphones on his head, “You’re in charge of watching the sky and controlling the music. That’s the most important part.”

 

“Oh,” Damian nods before putting on the headphones as if what Tim said actually made sense. Tim supposed in Damian’s tiny mind that it did. An hour into listening what must’ve been on thirteen year old Dick’s playlist and Damian fell asleep. Just about the time that Bruce predicted, Tim began to see the lining of Gotham.

 

“Aircraft seventy two, please go into camouflage mode,” Tim requested of the machine. 

 

When he landed nearing the cave, Tim gently shook the youngest awake who woke with gasp and fear, clutching at whatever surrounded him. Tim jumped back, never actually experiencing one of Damian’s fearful awakenings that Dick had mentioned. It was painful to see what the league had done to a child. Tim held out his arms, “We landed Dames.”

 

The child didn’t hold back on jumping into Tim’s arms, “Can we stay on the plane?”

 

“Our family is out there. Are you scared bud?”

 

Damian shook his head in Tim’s neck. It was a blatant lie, but the lie was clear even without words. Damian was scared of the rest of the family which wasn’t good, but Tim couldn’t not let them see him. Damian would realize its okay and Tim would be there the whole time to make sure.

 

“Do you want me to hold you?” Tim asked, rubbing the back gently.

 

“I should walk. Warriors walk alone,” Damian blubbered on, but still viciously held tight. 

 

“I didn’t ask what warriors should do… I asked what my little brother wanted to do,” Tim explained calmly. Just like he’d seen Dick and Bruce do before. Requesting what Damian Wayne specifically wanted. Not what a future Batman should do.

 

“You,” Damian whispered. Tim stood up straighter with a little kid wrapped around him, Damian’s little head now just resting on his shoulder. He seemed more at ease, but it was clear his anxiety was peaking at what his family would think of his younger self.

 

Tim walked out of the plane with the little guy fisting his shirt. He saw Dick’s running form first, the smile was big as he squeezed the life out of both of them in a bear hug. Damian clutched more at him. When seperated Dick stared at Damian’s tiny form.

 

“Awe, Dami. You’re so wittle! Let me see you!” Dick put out his hands only for Damian to shriek and dig his legs harder around Tim with one hand pulling at Tim’s hair and the other at the tee shirt. Dick jumped back like he’d been bitten. The hurt look on his face made Tim almost drop to the floor.

 

“He’s just gone through alot today,” Tim told Dick while also combing Damian child sized hand out of his long hair, “Just give him a bit. It took him awhile to warm up to me to like this.”

 

“Oh, of course.” Dick nodded but the hurt look still present, “Sorry Dami. I won’t scare you again.”

 

Damian’s watchful eyes peered out to evaluate his eldest brother. The slumped puppy dog look Dick held clearly not intimidating the tyke, “Tt.”

 

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation upstairs with tea and scones,” Alfred seemed to appear out of thin air, “I’m sure Master Damian would be quite happy in some proper clothes, hm? Master Bruce and Miss Cassandra are awaiting you afterall. Master Damian would you like to accompany me so you can change?”

 

Damian peered out at the man, but Alfred unlike Dick kept enough distance for Damian to assess the situation. Tim peered down at the kid whose eyes ultimately landed back on him, “We should get you in some different clothes. You’d be more comfortable but I can come with you if you’d like. Though, It’d be nice if I could talk to the family before they see you.”

 

Damian tightened his hold but loosened a bit again, “We’d be in the same building still.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere, remember. You’d be upstairs with Alfred and I’d be in the living room with the family,” Tim explained.

 

“And we’d only be seperated long enough for me to change?” Damian asked.

 

“A very short amount of time,” Tim nodded. Damian contemplated before pulling at Tim’s shirt to be placed on the ground. Happily, Tim complied. Damian wasn’t heavy but he had a very strong grip.

 

“I’ll go with Pennyworth,” Damian told him.

 

“Good job,” Tim couldn’t help but ruffle Damian’s hair (Something the ten year old would have ripped his arm off for), “I’m proud of you.”

 

The child absolutely preened at the praise. Unlike normal Damian who kept it all despite the obvious excitement he held when Bruce or Dick congratulated him, this child wore it all on his face while blushing a deep red. He hesitantly left with the older butler leaving Dick and Tim alone together.

 

“He’s so attached,” Dick stated.

 

“I’ve just been the only one around. He was very suspicious of the team. Like ten times more so than usual.”

 

“But his memories-”

 

“Mostly intact. They’re just er, infantilized. Mindset and all of that.”

 

“To be honest I was expecting a more explosive child,” Dick snorted, “Not someone so sweet and timid.”

 

Tim sighed, “It’s still just day one.”

  
  



	2. Fun Size Brother

Tim felt exhausted by the end of the night with having to repeat the same story multiple times and introducing Damian to the family… Family he already knew but acted like he was on eggshells around the people he usually felt comfortable enough to be brash with. Then there was Bruce’s insistence on running test on the child which caused a full blown- not quite tantrum. Four year old Damian was use to be poked and prodded at in ways that ended in pain.

 

“It’s okay,” Tim held the very much still a ninja assassin in his arms as they ran tests, “Your dad’s not going to hurt you. Be a big guy, Okay? You’re doing super good.”

 

That was a blatant lie at the time. Damian wasn’t screaming but was a complete physical terror that liked to use his claws as much as ten year old Damian did. Tim has the scratches running down his arms to prove it. Alfred and Tim seemed to be the only one to calm the kiddo down while Bruce and Jason screamed at each other in the hallway about the right way to go about this. Dick had to step out the room the moment he saw something in the feral fear that the rest of them didn’t. Cassandra watched warily from afar.

 

Alfred gave Damian some calming tea that managed to do the trick to calm the boy down enough to sit down in the room with Tim and Cassandra. Alfred was eying the clock in a way that told Tim exactly what he wanted the two youngest members of the family to do. Sleep. Tim didn’t find himself arguing, he could use some rest even if it would have to be held off by finishing some W.E stuff. 

 

“You ready for bed?” Tim asked Damian who laid sleepily against him but fought off going to sleep better than any warrior could fight in battle. Tim had no doubt that if Damian wanted too then he would stay awake until he was forced down.

 

“No,” Damian said stubbornly, “I will wait for you to come back.”

 

“I’m not going out tonight, Dames,” Tim stated, “You don’t have to worry about me leaving. I’m pretty beat myself.”

 

“Then I will wait for Cassandra,” Damian nodded towards his sister. The girl playfully rolled her eye but booped the tiny Wayne’s nose. 

 

“No. We gotta get some sleep,” Tim stated. It sounded alot like the arguments he and Dick would have now about Tim’s sleep schedule. Damian shook his head and crawled farther into Tim’s personal space. Tim can’t help but wonder what happened between the ages four and ten that made normal Damian so hostile and cold to the idea of touch. He’s sure whatever training the boy went through had something to so with it. 

 

“Won’t sleep because he no feel good,” Cassandra spoke. 

 

Tim furrowed his brow before looking down at the younger boy that glared at the girl as if she betrayed him, “Do you feel sick, Damian?”

 

“Cassandra knows nothing,” Damian grumbled.

 

“Not sick,” Cass voiced, “Unsafe. Guarded.”

 

“You don’t feel safe?” Tim looked down at the boy who subconsciously rubbed at the shoulder where Bruce took blood samples. Oh…

 

“Bruce isn’t going to hurt you or try to do anything. You know that. He only did that because he was scared if there was anything wrong with you,” Tim attempted to assure him, “He’s your dad. He just wants you safe.”

 

“He is unpleased because there is something wrong,” Damian crossed his arms, wearing the dog pajamas that Alfred purchased. Tim’s eyes stayed on Damian’s pajama covered feet, they were just so small, “I’m not useful in this form. A lia-lia-abity. Liability.”

 

Tim sat up and picked up the small boy who pushed at him but not as hard as he could. Even at this age, Damian knows ten ways to kill a man and free himself… So he must not hate it that bad, “You’re not a liability, Damian. You’re just so different. Not bad different either. Your dad isn’t always the brightest-”

 

“Don’t speak poorly of father.”

 

“-when he is scared that something could be wrong. He found out nothing was. Just watch, soon he will be all better and a whole lot nicer. Make sense?”

 

Damian bit his lip but watched both Cassandra and Tim nod their head along, “I suppose.”

 

Little Damian was alot easier to convince than big Damian. 

 

“Good. So you ready to go to bed?” Tim yawned. Unfortunately the child still shook his head viciously at that.

 

“What could possibly keep you awake?” Tim asked with exasperation. It didn’t make any sense. Tim pulled out all the stops. He let the kid use him as a jungle gym, he’s convinced the kid that he was safe, he got the kid the tea, he stayed outside the bathroom so Damian could go but not freak out. What else could be wrong?”

 

“The bed,” Damian answered.

 

“The bed?” Tim sighed before making eye contact with Cass who clearly was amused. Alright Tim, you got this. You can do this without losing it, “What’s wrong with the bed?”

 

“It’s too… big,” Damian explained, “It’s not wise for my surroundings to be so open while being alone.”

 

“You want to sleep with me?” Tim could connect the dots well enough.

 

“I want you to guard my surroundings, clearly,” Damian crossed his arms with red tinged ears. Tim could hear Dick’s cooing in his head. This was crazy, he was Damian favorite brother right now and Tim wasn’t sure how to handle it at all. All he could do was go with the punches.

 

“Okay, lets guard our surroundings,” Tim sighed as they trotted up the stairs to Damian’s room.

  
  
  


When Tim opened his eyes, he felt relieved and warm. He hadn’t had a sleep that well in years. He was warm in a nice open bed that… doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to Damian. Damian whose four years old and not lying next to him like he is supposed to be.

 

“Damian,” Tim jumped out of bed before running through the house and yelling his younger brothers name before hearing the small giggle fits coming from… the kitchen… When he walks in, he is pleased to see Damian and Dick sitting at the kitchen counter over bags of candy. Damian has a band aid on his forehead.

 

“Morning Timmy,” Dick grinned around a mouthful of gummy bears, “Alfred is at the grocer so I am in charge of breakfast.”

 

“I wish I could believe that,” Tim rolled his eyes before looking at Damian, “Where’d you go, Dames?”

 

The boy frowned, “I, um, I woke up needing to use the restroom but I couldn’t reach the soap at the sink. When I climbed, I fell and hurt my head. Grayson found me.”

 

Tim met Dick’s eyes over the smaller boy where there was some unspoken agreement that they didn’t have when Dick first took Damian in. The kid was having them earn his trust and then openly giving all of it once they did.  Damian clearly did not see it.

 

“Did I do something wrong?” Damian cocked his head.

 

“‘Course not,” Tim told him, sitting down, “So, what are we working our way through now?”

 

Damian reminded Tim alot of himself at that age. When he was with the adults, he stayed quiet. Seen but not heard, careful about anything and everything in order to not get a reprimand. Tim can’t imagine that Nanda Prat was much of a place for children…

 

“Damian, you can do something else,” Tim told him, “You don’t have to wait for me to finish work. You can if you want, but you can draw or watch TV or something.”

 

Damian burrowed his brows in confusion, “Should I study or train?”

 

Tim knows that logically, Damian can do both of these. Damian is a genius ten year old boy that is highly capable in combat but the idea of making little tiny baby Damian train in non lethal combat or read about the Yerkes-Dodson Theory, twist something in the older boy’s stomach. He can remember his mother making him do graphs while waiting in some business meeting. Trying to explain ‘whatever he wants’ to Damian will be a waste of his time and effort, instead Tim pushes back the work to face to little boy.

 

“I think we should play a game,” Tim said.

 

“Games are for children,” Damian crossed his arms.

 

“Okay… Well then I guess we can study instead,” Tim sighed as he reached for his physics book. He opened the page mindlessly and began reading on any random paragraph while simultaneously watching Damian fidget from the corner of his eyes.

 

“What type of game?” Damian cocked his head.

 

“Ever heard of hide and go seek?” Tim grinned.

  
  


Maybe suggesting to play hide and seek with a legit ninja that is size of a large throw pillow in an estate with many and many hidden tunnels was not his best idea. Because Damian doesn’t hide under the bed like a normal four year old, no he choose to hide in the the damn bat cave. The only reason that Tim even knows that Damian is down there is because the little handprint surrounding the dust on the clock which meant the brat climbed up it.

 

“Oh hey Bruce,” Tim jumped, seeing the man sitting at his computer from the back, “Uh, shouldn’t you be at W.E?”

 

“Just doing a little spring cleaning,” Bruce monotoned, “Aren’t you supposed to be watching your little brother?”

 

“Oh I am,” Tim nodded, “It’s just- Damian asked me to come get his cape. He has a specfic one, ya know. I’m just looking around, don’t mind me.”

 

“Oh I won’t,” Bruce answered as Tim looked up, maybe the brat was hanging somewhere up there. Maybe he was on the dinosaur, “But he might.”

 

Tim know who he will see when he turns around. He finds a tiny Damian on the lap of his father. He’s covered in dirt while having a ripped sleeve but otherwise okay. He’s frowning but nothing major, “I got stuck.”

 

“He was in a vent,” Bruce looked like he was trying not to smile, “I thought it was a kitten or something when I heard his sneezing.”

 

Damian rolled his eyes but looked above to meet his father’s eyes, “It wasn’t that funny, father.”

 

But the kitten like sneeze came out again. And Bruce laughed at that, bopping his son’s nose. It wasn’t a phase that Tim got to see his father in a lot, the carefree smile across his face. Tim knows that Bruce loves them, but Tim also knows that Bruce craves this time with his children that he doesn’t get often enough. 

 

“Here, I’ll get him to a bath,” Tim held out his arms.

 

Damian was ready to hop off Bruce’s lap when the man stood up. His arms placing Damian’s little body around Bruce’s large hip, “I can do it… If you need to do some work… If that’s alright with you… with both of you…”

 

Tim makes sure that Damian give him the okay first. Calculating little green eyes dance between father and brother before nodding. An approval that Bruce had yet to earn since the incident in the cave with the blood.

 

“I think that’ll be okay. I have some work to do anyways,” Tim agreed.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would any of you be bothered if I decided to steer off the Tim track for like part of a chapter and do Bruce and Damian bubble bath time and cuddles form one or the other's point of view? Or will that like ruin the flow of the story?


	3. Fun Size Son

Bruce can’t help but think about how tiny Damian is in general. He’s small enough that Bruce wonders if its a good idea to even use the clawfoot tub in the master bath. Still, he can’t exactly see the use of the sink being up Damian’s alley. So he fills up the tub with slightly warmer than room temperature water, a task that took Damian far too long to decide on. He manages to find the bubble bath in Dick’s bathroom along with an unopened bottle of children’s shampoo in Damian’s bathroom. It smells like apples.

 

“I don’t use that,” Damian pouted.

 

“It won’t hurt if I get it in your eyes,” Bruce told him, “We can use my body wash still.”

 

“I can wash myself father,” Damian looked up. Scary scenarios of Damian’s little body drowning in the tub or slipping and cracking his head fill Bruce’s head. That same sickening feeling that he develops when one of his children is out on the streets alone develops in his stomach. It’s irony.

 

“Just humor me, okay?” Bruce ruffled the boy’s dusty hair. The boy seemed to contemplate for a moment, his eyes lingering back down to his arm where Bruce had Tim hold him down in order to take the blood samples. Bruce can agree that it wasn’t one of his brightest moments and is now the current reason his second son isn’t talking to him and his aging butler gave him cold coffee that past two days, “I grabbed bubble bath. I use to like these as a boy. Richard still uses them.”

 

“Richard still uses the bendy straws,” Damian stated, “But I guess I can try the bubbles… for you.”

 

“Thank you, Damian,” Bruce noticed the boy was having issues with the buttons on his pants. Too little fingers not being able to properly undo the pants, “Do you need help? It’s okay if you do.”

 

Damian’s ears grew red as he bashfully nodded. Bruce splits the bubbles in the water before returning to his son. First he sat the boy on the bathroom counter and began to work on the shoes. Before going to help his youngest out of his shirts. The marks that Damian had barred when he first arrived here and the ones he earned as Robin had lessened. Unfortunately, they had not lessened to the degree that he had hoped as he saw the lash marks along a child’s back.

 

“What’s wrong father?” Damian stared up at him with those big eyes. How could someone hurt something so small and innocent? Bruce cusps the tiny face and plants his lips against the boy’s forehead. The affection came much more easily when Damian was much more accepting of it.

 

“Nothing Habib,” Bruce promised, “I’m just happy you are here.”

 

“Oh,” Damian frowned in confusion, “I’m happy you are here too.”

 

It was something that was so Damian, even at the tender age of four that Bruce couldn’t help laughing. Wayne's weren’t the best at the touchy-feely stuff but atleast they tried their best. Bruce finished Damian take off the dusty clothing and climb into the warm tub. It absolutely swarms Damian’s small form. Only the top of his shoulder and his head come above the water, Bruce has to fight away the bubbles from drowning him. Damian run his dirty hands through the water before staring up at Bruce.

 

Bruce can’t deny that he wishes he had this with all his children. He can’t deny that he wished he had them since childhood and that they were his from the start, not that he could possibly love them anymore. They already own his heart blood or not but he wished he could share this experience with them. He wishes that he was somewhat involved when Dick first learned to cartwheel or flip. He wishes that he was able to take Jason to the chili diner when he was a boy. He wishes that he was the one to take Tim to the doctor’s office when he was a sickly child. He wishes that he was the single father sitting amongst the dance mothers at a Cassandra childhood dance recitals. He wishes that he had the chance to wake up at three am to feed Damian as an infant.

 

As nice and wonderful as having little Damian is, he wouldn’t trade the ten year old spitfire that had made so much progress for the world. Still they said this was temporary and Bruce can be selfish enough to enjoy these moments with his son. His little boy who's trying to be so adult and not play with the bubbles. Bruce grabs a handful and blows it in his son’s face. Damian pauses and stares at his father long before a mischievous grin sprouts over and he has no problem drenching Bruce in bubbles and water.

 

“Brat,” Bruce smirked.

 

“Grayson would say you started it,” Damian points out as if that gives him permission to drench Bruce to the high heavens. That argument seems to apply whether Damian is four or ten and will most likely still be used well into adulthood.

 

“I’m in charge of Grayson too.”

 

“Tt,” Damian crossed his arms, “If that’s what you think.”

 

Bruce readied a loofah with his shower gel, something that he knew Damian liked to use. He would be willing to place all bets that Damian would appreciate the sentiment. He then readies a washcloth, “Okay. You use the loofah to clean your arms, legs, and feet while I get the back of your neck and behind your ears. Then we will figure out something to do with this face and hair.”

 

“Will you get my back too?” Damian silently requested. Bruce nodded at the request, happy that Damian was bouncing back so easily. Children weren’t as complex as Bruce originally thought. But that doesn’t mean he is going to underestimate them. He starts making movements on Damian’s back while the boy switched between washing himself and playing with the bubbles.

 

Damian sneezed again causing the bubbles to go everywhere. Including his father’s face, Bruce couldn’t find it in himself to be upset as he repositioned the boy to face him. He began to gently scrub at the dust face. When he pulled back it was to finally see the tanned skin on his youngest, dirt free but still blushing red. Bruce grabbed the cup of water before tilting the tiny head up, “Close your eyes. I don’t want to get dirt or shampoo in your eyes.”

 

“I thought you said it wouldn’t hurt,” Damian frowned before reverting his gaze to the child’s shampoo next to the body soap.

 

“It won’t,” Bruce agreed, “It’s just something you’re supposed to do.”

 

_ I was supposed to be doing this since you were actually this age. I was supposed to kissing the boo boos away. I was supposed to be asking your sibling to be watching you when you were younger. I was supposed to be around. _

 

“Oh,” Damian frowned, “That’s an usual rule.”

 

“Not as unusual as you’d think,” Bruce told him. Damian quirked his head but didn’t comment further before closing his eyes and letting Bruce wet the dry but dusty hair a few time. The dirt streaked down his back again, letting Bruce know that he would have to wash his boy’s back for the second time.

 

He took the children’s shampoo that smelt like apple, but not the harsh apple that was obnoxiously fruity. Then again the children’s shampoo was of high quality, he’s pretty sure that Dick still uses this as an adult. He scrubs gently at the boys dark wet hair. He also asked if he was hurting the child at all only to receive that wonderful -tt- sound in response.

 

“I like the smell,” Damian told him after Bruce began to rinse it. The boy’s head was tilted back in order for the water not to run down his face any more than it should. Bruce paused inorder for his son to look up at him with those green eyes once again.

 

“You can use it when you’re older too. You’re not as old as you think you are,” Bruce cusped his son’s face. The boy blinked up at him before turning down to stare at the scars that mark his body, “I killed when I was three. It was a simple kill. A starving servant that attempted to steal from the temple. Grandfather marched me down and handed me the knife. No training at all. The thief sat there and let me do it.”

 

“I know,” Bruce nodded. The little boy was starting to shiver, even if he hadn’t noticed it yet. Bruce can recall Damian’s first winter with blue tinted lips, he wants to scoop the boy out soon but he doesn’t think that Damian will be easily reverted until he get whatever response from Bruce that he is looking for. If only Bruce could figure that out.

 

“I kept killing and hurting people. Good and Bad,” Damian said.

 

“I know,” Bruce said before tilting the head up again and spilling the water over his face. Damian’s eyes closed without needing to be told.

 

“Is it easier to forgive me now than when I’m older?” Damian asked. Bruce froze. Damian keeps switching between this youthful mindset and his own far too old ten year old mind. Bruce feels more whiplash now than he ever does in the batmobile.

 

“I forgive you because you are a good person,” Bruce told his son, “You were just a boy when you took that first life, guided by an evil man and scared. I forgave you when I first met you because you are still a child, still scared by the people who were supposed to protect and love you. You are not a killer, Damian Wayne. You are a child whether you see it or not. I know you think that doesn’t mean anything. But it does whether you are four or ten or eighteen. You shouldn’t ever be forced into those situations, have to make those decisions.”

 

Damian was quiet for a second, “Would it please you if I stayed this way? If I held no memory at all?”

 

Bruce quirked his head, confused by the question. The boy looked scared of what Bruce would say, “But you have memory.”

 

“Fleeting and min-mini- small,” Damian frowned, “I can sup-press. Make myself forget. You can raise me as you’d like.”

 

Bruce frowned at the boy, “What do you want, son?”

 

Even though Bruce knows what the boy wants. He wants the complete love and approval of his father, something he never felt like he could gain. Bruce cursed himself for being so closed off with the boys… in general. He’d been working on it but clearly not as much as he’d like. The child in front of him views himself as irredeemable and toxic, as if the only way to fix himself is to erase who he is completely. Instead Damian stares at him with big eyes instead of answering.

 

Bruce pulls the plug in the tub before grabbing the towel set next to him. Damian stands to reach for the towel as Bruce wraps the wet yet clean body in it to pull him out and on his lap while they sit on the bathroom floor. He fits just as good now as he does when he is ten. Damian wriggles to be comfortable but stays with his father.

 

“I love the child I have, no matter how bratty or violent he can be. I love the progress you’ve made. I love the boy I have in my arms whether he is an infant or four or ten or forty. Damian, you are who you are. Erasing you and being selfish because I wish I was there for your first day of kindergarten or anything else would not change a thing about you and neither should you… So I’ll ask again, what do you want?”

 

Damian peered up at him, “I want to be myself again… But for now, I suppose I can bear this just for a bit.”

 

“I think I can bear it too,” Bruce snorted. He’s still human, he still wants to treasure this fleeting time with his youngest child. He stands up Damian to rub down his body with the fluffy towel that dwarfs him. He leaves the child to stand before grabbing a clean hand towel and rubbing his child’s head in the same way Martha did when Bruce was younger. Damian’s squeak of a giggle please his ears when his hair is semi dry, they share a small smile that’s reserved for Wayne’s only when they feel necessary.

 

“You’re wet,” Damian frowned at his father.

 

“I suppose I am,” Bruce retorted, “Lets go get clean clothes, shall we?”

 

The little boy waddled after him towards the room where Alfred brought the current clothes that fitted his son. It wasn’t much but enough for them to get by until they needed more. Bruce went towards his own closet, choosing something more casual and loose considering little Damian seemed to be his charge currently. When he came back out the boy was staring at the clothing. A cheap Nightwing and Batman themed children shirt hid amongst it. Alfred would never buy something like that, but Dick would.

 

“I think the Batman shirt is more flattering personally,” Bruce said as he held out a pair of underwear for Damian. The boy wiggled into them while being as modest as he could.

 

“Grayson is a fo-foool,” The word sounded hard for the child, but he managed. Though the ‘ol’ sounded far too emphasized. Damian held up the Nightwing shirt considerably before returning to the Batman shirt. He looked at his father with an evil look in his eye. Bruce helped the boy put on the Batman shirt and children’s jeans before tightening them.

 

“So what now?” Bruce asked, “We can’t rub it in your brother’s face that you chose Batman over Nightwing until he returns from work.”

 

Damian looked bashful but didn’t stop him from speaking, “Where’s Timothy?”

 

Imprinting is what the psychologist call it. Damian’s younger mind had imprinted on Tim the same way it did Talia when the teenager was the only one present. Bruce prayed that when Damian returned to normal that the twos relationship would stay improved. Still, Tiny Damian calling for Tim rather than his father hurt a bit. Yet Bruce is grown enough not to let that cloud their judgment. This is about Damian’s comfort right now.

 

“I’ll go get him for you,” Bruce said, “I should-”

 

“Wait,” Damian’s little hands clutched at the hem of Bruce’s shirt, “Maybe we can all do something.”

 

“Together?” Bruce asked. He hadn’t done something with Damian and Tim together beyond their nightlife. Damian shook his head, clutching a little more at Bruce’s shirt.

 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Bruce smiled at his son. Damian straightened his posture at the praise, “Lets go find Tim together.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me why Tim and Damian became the main theme of this small story. Don't ask me how long this story will be... I have no clue, but it won't be more than five chapters that's for sure. Yes, Damian has his memories but their infantilized and he'll have young tendencies but he's still Damian.
> 
> Comments make the world go round!


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